


Designated Driver

by Rassilon_writes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, The Gnawed Noble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 09:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rassilon_writes/pseuds/Rassilon_writes
Summary: Half the Inquisitor's companions end up at the Gnawed Noble in Denerim. Cullen is determined to be a responsible adult, but that doesn't quite go to plan. His companions know he's bottling up his feelings for the Inquisitor, and are determined to get the truth out of him. They can save the world tomorrow, tonight they drink.Inspired by an @Dragon_Age_Fans Twitter poll asking who would be the designated chariot driver if the gents of Skyhold had a pub crawl in Denerim. Took that idea and ran with it!





	Designated Driver

'Just one drink. One drink, then we go.'

Cullen didn't even believe himself when he said it, so he was sure no one else did.

'Relax, Curly. It's been a rough couple of weeks, we just need to let off a little steam.'

Varric was right. It had been rough. Two weeks of representing the Inquisitor in Ferelden, going from reception to parade to dinner until they all melted into one awful mess of social engagements. Everyone wanted to know the Commander of the Inquisition, and he'd had more eligible daughters thrust under his nose than any man would know what to do with. But it was finally over: tomorrow morning they left for Skyhold and he couldn't begin to describe the relief he felt. 

One drink came and went. Cullen resolutely nursed his sole ale while the others bought round after round from the bar. 

Dorian plonked a tray laden with mugs in front of Cullen. 'Commander, why so glum? Although I was not optimistic about somewhere called 'The Gnawed Noble', I confess that the drinks are perfectly adequate and the furnishings not too filthy.'

Cullen simmered with jealousy – how could Dorian be as eloquent as ever, even when his eyes were glazed and he swayed like a sapling in the breeze?

Blackwall punched Cullen in the arm, exclaiming, 'Come on, have a drink! Live tonight, for tomorrow we may all be cut into tiny pieces by an army of demon nugs.' 

He sighed. 'Someone has to get us all back to our lodgings tonight, and the way you're all going, it looks like I'm it.'

'That's what I like about you, Cullen, you're a team player.' Bull managed to sound jovial and threatening in equal measure.

Varric lurched to his feet. 'A toast! To Commander Curly, who will never leave any of us behind!'

A roar surged through the tavern, cut short as they all took hefty swigs of whatever they had to hand.

Bull turned to Blackwall. 'That nug thing sounds like a nasty way to go...I've come up with a list of the ten worst ways to die, wanna hear it?'

This was going to be a very long night.

####  **~Some time later~**

'...Then the Chief jumped on the wasp spider's back and rode it across the cave, screaming like a demon. I couldn't believe it. Don't think the spider could either. Scared the living shit out of those bandits though.'

Bull smirked. 'Sometimes it pays to be creative, Krem. As I keep reminding your fellow 'Vint over there.'

Cullen glanced at Dorian, hunched over in an elegant heap, and saw the blush creep into his face. 'I don't understand the game you and Dorian are playing. You dance around each other and never actually do anything. What does it achieve?'

'More than you'd think, Chantry boy. Don't you worry about us, we both know what we're getting into.'

Krem shot a weary look at Varric. 'You know what's really frustrating? Watching two people who obviously fancy each other but never dare do anything about it.'

'I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about', said Varric with a chuckle, 'But I imagine that kind of thing must get very old, very quickly, for anyone forced to witness such a travesty.'

Bull, a picture of gleeful nonchalance, added 'How was the Inquisitor when you last saw her, Commander?'

Cullen was confused. 

Dorian lifted his head off the table to come to Cullen's aid. 'Leave the poor man alone. He quite clearly hasn't the first idea what you're on about.'

Varric sighed. 'Look, we're all friends here, right? Let's just be upfront about this. You obviously have some warm, fuzzy feelings for the Inquisitor, and not admitting it is eating you alive.'

Cullen gulped. He was mortified that anyone had noticed. What if she'd noticed? Oh Maker, no.

Bull pushed his half-empty mug into his hands. 'Have a drink, it'll help! You've still got some of this piss-weak swill you've been guarding all evening.'

He had to admit, it wasn't a terrible idea. He drank. Age had not improved the already questionable ale, and he had to resist spitting it out.

'Yeah, it's not great. Here, have this, it will wash the taste away.' Varric offered him a brimming flagon of mead. It did look quite good. It tasted even better.

He slammed the empty flagon down, and looked up to see them all looking at him expectantly.

The room was strangely quiet, except for the thud of Dorian collapsing back onto the table.

Where to begin? 'It's just...she's so...and I...Well. You see?'

Krem staggered up from the bench. 'Time for another round.'

####  **~Later in the evening~**

Cullen steadied himself on Varric's shoulder. 'I never thought I'd find someone like her in the midst of all this mess. The fate of Thedas on her shoulders, and she never falters, never gives up, never stops caring.' Cullen stared right into the dwarf's eyes to impress upon him the importance of this point. 'She's a marvel, Varric, a marvel.'

Bull pushed yet another gleaming mug Cullen's way. 'Try this one. You've been in this starry-eyed, adoring phase for a while and I want to know what's beyond that.'

Never one to shirk his duty, Cullen drained the drink in one gulp. 

'Never knew you had it in you, Curly. Now, I assume you've never actually told her any of this?'

Cullen broke out in a cold sweat. 'No! Absolutely not! It would be inapp...inapprop...it wouldn't be right. And there's no way that a woman like that would ever give me a second thought!'

An indignant Dorian resurfaced. 'Of course not. She would never consider the charming, accomplished, passably attractive war hero a worthy match.' 

She wouldn't. Even if he were any of those things, she wouldn't.

'Sparkler, lay off him, we're finally getting somewhere! Oh Curly, he didn't mean it, don't look so damn sad.'

Dorian used every ounce of will to stand and tower over Cullen. 'That's my friend you're essentially calling an idiot, and I will not have it! Even if you think so little of yourself, Commander Perfect-Hair, do her the courtesy of crediting her with more intelligence!' Dorian wobbled and steadied himself on Bull's shoulder. 'And that is all I have to say on the matter.'

Cullen rested his head on the table until Varric returned with more drinks. If anything, the dwarf seemed more sober than before. 

'Varric she can't know. It does feel better to say it all out loud, but...promise me.'

'Trust me, I won't tell a soul.'

####  **~Who knows how long later~**

A few more mugs, and he'd finish the fortification he was building on the table. It was a sturdy construction, even if he did say so himself. It needed a banner though, and possibly a trebuchet.

Bull had been following his progress with interest, occasionally offering design advice. 'I reckon three more should just about do it. I'll get more drinks.'

Blackwall lurched over with a full tray. 'Way ahead of you, you great lump! You're all getting too damn serious over here. Who knows Andraste's Mabari?'

Somehow, they all ended up outside, with a crateful of ale. It turned out that none of them knew Andraste's Mabari, but they belted out a few increasingly filthy tavern songs. Bull and Krem then launched into the Charger's Anthem, bellowing it enthusiastically as their merry band staggered through the streets. 

Suddenly, a deluge engulfed them from above. Cullen spluttered, then hunted for the source. He looked up, so far up that he fell backwards. An angry figure was leaning out of a window, brandishing a bucket. 

'Will you festering, pox-rotted maggots shut up?! There's decent folks here that's trying to sleep!'

Blackwall looked like he was going to respond, but Varric shooed him away, whispering 'You'll make it worse!'

The figure exclaimed, 'Damn right he will! There's plenty more where that came from!', and waved their bucket again. 

They fled as best they could, beating a disorderly retreat. Dorian lost his cloak; when he tried to retrieve it Bull scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder, shouting 'Leave it! We're outnumbered and outmatched, it's lost to us now!'

It was just too much. Cullen collapsed into a fit of giggling. Varric soon followed suit, and eventually the entire motley group descended into raucous, uncontrollable laughter.

Then the smell hit them, like a wet cloth in the face. Sweet Maker, what was in that bucket? They needed water, and fast. 

After two more attempts at Andraste's Mabari, their scouting efforts located a fountain. Cullen was trying to remember how to wash his face when a voice behind him said 'That will never do. Take the plunge, Commander.' 

One push, and for a glorious moment he was flying. It was wonderful, the feeling of weightlessness as he hovered in the air. And then he crashed into the fountain and all the night's adventures caught up with him. 'Dorian, you utter...something.'

Varric chuckled. 'That's the spirit, Curly, you tell him.'

Cullen snaked out his arm, grabbed Varric's leg, and pulled him in the water.

'Hey, that looks like fun!' With a battle cry, Bull launched himself into the water, pulling Krem and Dorian in after him. Blackwall teetered on the edge of the fountain until his legs gave way and he toppled in.

Cullen couldn't quite muster the energy to get up. His head was heavy, and his eyes were so very tired. Just a quick rest, then onward.

####  **~After 'a quick rest'~**

A jarring sound lanced through his head. Startled, he fought to get up, slipped in water and promptly fell over. What was that infernal noise? He carefully opened his eyes, fighting nausea as the morning light flooded his vision. Squinting, he looked for the source of the awful racket. A bird perched on top of the fountain, merrily chirping its dawn chorus. 

A spark of electricity appeared in the corner of his eye. 'Dorian, no!', he cried, the sound of his own voice rattling painfully around inside his head.

'I was only going to scare it.'

Footsteps thudded closer, until Cullen swore someone was standing on his head. He opened his eyes a little, and saw Varric, looking suspiciously cheerful and bearing a box of food.

'You're alive! And awake. I took the liberty of acquiring some breakfast. Curly, try not to look so green around the gills, it's not your colour. You all need to eat, after all we have a long, long, long journey ahead of us today.'

He was trying very hard to move, but it didn't seem to be working.

Varric fought back laughter. 'It's a good thing I'm your friend, or I'd commission a portrait to capture this moment for the ages. Actually, that's a wonderful idea. I could call it 'Glory of the Inquisition.'


End file.
